


The Way You Eat Meat is Beautiful

by spurious



Category: Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's something they do every month, and although Yoko's never been sure how it developed into such a regular thing, or at what point the promise of sex entered into it, when he wakes up in the morning and thinks about how he's going to dinner with Ohkura that night, he can't really focus on anything else for the rest of the day.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way You Eat Meat is Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Final kink_bingo fic! This one for the "food" square. Thanks to Ciara for betaing <3

It's something they do every month, and although Yoko's never been sure how it developed into such a regular thing, or at what point the promise of sex entered into it, when he wakes up in the morning and thinks about how he's going to dinner with Ohkura that night, he can't really focus on anything else for the rest of the day.

They're going for yakiniku this time, on a swelteringly hot day in the middle of August. A hand-lettered sign on the restaurant's door reads: "Currently participating in electricity-saving campaign. Thank you for your cooperation." Yoko braces himself for it to be just as hot or hotter than it is outside, but once he's descended the stairs into the dimly-lit restaurant, it's not that bad.

He's gotten there first, and a waiter who must recognize him leads him to a secluded booth in the corner. Yoko checks his watch, then starts to look over the menu while he waits for Ohkura.

"Hey," Ohkura says, sliding into the chair across from Yoko's a few minutes later.

"Hey," Yoko says. His stomach does a little flip-flop, either of hunger or anticipation. Or both.

"So." Ohkura picks up a menu, studying it closely.

"I was thinking the set," Yoko says. He'd already ordered beer, and at that moment a waitress appears with two glasses, almost overflowing at the foamy tops. She bends to start the grill before ducking away.

They order the the deluxe set for two and clink their glasses together. The grill is already getting hot, making the air around the table warmer, and when Yoko raises his glass to his lips, condensation slips cool down over his fingers. The beer is cold and refreshing in Yoko's mouth, and he swallows down a big gulp. There's a light sheen of sweat on Ohkura's forehead, and Yoko watches the arch of his neck as he tips his head back to take a sip.

"Where'd you hear of this place?" Yoko asks. Ohkura almost always picks the restaurant, places he's heard of from friends, been taken to by senpai, or even just seen on TV or in magazines.

"I came here with Yasu when we filmed one of the Tokyo episodes of Bouken," he says.

They make small talk as they wait for the food, sipping steadily at their beers. Just as Yoko's worrying they've run out of things to talk about, the first of the food arrives: strips of nicely-arranged beef and small bowls of sauce. Yoko picks up the tongs, spreading the beef out evenly over the grill. The smell hits him almost immediately, wafting temptingly up and reminding him just how hungry he is. He closes his eyes for a moment, just breathing it in, and when he opens them he sees Ohkura doing the same thing, lips curled up into an expression of bliss. Yoko flips the meat over, letting the other sides cook before transferring a few pieces to each of their plates.

After dipping his first piece liberally, Yoko raises it to his mouth. It's delicious, hot and perfect on his tongue, and he can't hold back a groan. When he looks up, Ohkura's just taking his first bite. Yoko watches, rapt. There's something irresistible about the way Ohkura eats. It's not much different from the way he does it on television, just a little more subdued, and with fewer words. Yoko watches his mouth close around the piece of meat, lips shiny with sauce. His eyes flutter shut as his jaw moves, and Yoko hears a low moan that makes his breath hitch with anticipation.

He takes another bite, hoping Ohkura didn't notice him staring. He chews and swallows slowly, listening to Ohkura across the table. Hearing the muffled, pleased noises he makes around the food, Yoko can't help but be reminded of what they're going to do later, spread out naked on Ohkura's bed. The noises Ohkura's making now are almost exactly the same as the ones he'll make when Yoko curls his fingers around Ohkura's dick. If Yoko didn't know him better, he'd suspect Ohkura of doing it on purpose, of being a tease, but he looks across the table and sees nothing in Ohkura's face other than the genuine, hedonistic enjoyment of a good meal. Ohkura doesn't really put up much of a front: if he's enjoying something, you know it; if he's not, you definitely know it; and he wouldn't fake a reaction over something as precious to him as food.

Yoko can feel himself heating up as he eats, a combination of the heat from the grill, the food, the fuzzy warmth of alcohol, and the radiating hot feeling of arousal. He empties his beer, trying to resist the urge to press the cool, damp glass against his forehead.

A waiter shows up with a new plate of different meat, along with two bowls of rice. Yoko busies himself with cooking the meat and Ohkura orders them each another beer.

"Isn't this place good?" Ohkura says. He's watching the grill excitedly as Yoko flips the pieces.

"Yeah," Yoko agrees, "it's really delicious." He pauses. "I should start dieting soon, though."

Ohkura makes a non-committal sound, acknowledging he's heard but not encouraging Yoko to continue. They have a sort of unspoken rule between them not to mention dieting; it's easier to stuff their faces when they're not reminding each other of the guilt that's supposed to come later. Ohkura very rarely breaks the rule; Yoko forgets with more frequency, and between the two of them he's the one more likely to complain about it anyway. Ohkura's reaction reminds, him, though, and he shuts up.

These pieces are fattier than the last ones, the oil slippery in Yoko's mouth. He looks across the table and Ohkura's lips are shining with it. Yoko imagines kissing him right there, leaning over the table with the grill radiating up heat and the smell thick in his nose and pressing his lips against Ohkura's, licking into his mouth and just tasting.

He's staring, again, and this time Ohkura's caught him. He shoots Yoko a knowing smirk and licks his lips, slow and maddeningly sensual, before turning his attention back to the food. Yoko shifts in his seat, taking a deep breath. He turns back to his own food, the big, warm bowl of rice the perfect counterpoint to each piece of meat. The waiter brings more meat, along with more beer, and Yoko completely loses himself in the act of eating. He doesn't even notice he's full until he's setting his chopsticks down and leaning back, surveying the array of empty plates on the table. There's still about a third of his beer left, and he sips at it slowly while he watches Ohkura savoring the last of the food.

Yoko slouches in his seat, spreading his knees and tilting his head back. He's somewhere between comfortably full and completely stuffed, and his head feels light and comfortable. It's almost too easy to start dozing off, until the sound of Ohkura setting down his own chopsticks stirs him awake.

"Try and stay awake, will you," Ohkura mutters, trying and failing to hide a smile.

"That's funny, coming from you," Yoko says, recalling the time a few months ago when Ohkura had fallen asleep while Yoko was giving him a blowjob.

Ohkura laughs, probably remembering the same thing.

They split the bill and take a cab back to Ohkura's apartment. The ride there is silent, but comfortably so. Yoko's enjoying the feeling of having had a really good meal, settling full in his stomach, and already anticipating what's to come later, in Ohkura's apartment.

After toeing off their shoes in the entryway, they head straight for the bedroom, but when they get there they just lie down, flopping lazily onto Ohkura's comfortable bed. Things between them are never rushed; Ohkura's not really a man of speed in anything he does, and Yoko's perfectly content to let things go slowly when he's got a full stomach and a good buzz going.

They lie there for about fifteen minutes or so before Ohkura turns over, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Yoko's mouth. Yoko remembers the restaurant, Ohkura's mouth wet and shiny with sauce, and he groans into the kiss, reaching a hand up to tangle in Ohkura's hair and hold him there while Yoko sucks at his lower lip.

"Fuck," Yoko says, "you taste like yakiniku."

"So do you," Ohkura mumbles into Yoko's mouth.

Yoko almost laughs, because this is the sort of thing he'd joke about being Ohkura's version of dirty talk, but then Ohkura's shifting closer, body warm against Yoko's, and the laughter dies on his lips.

Ohkura bites down lightly on Yoko's lip and pushes his hips forward, making Yoko's breath hitch. Yoko moves his hand from Ohkura's hair to cup his ass, pulling him closer. Ohkura moans, open-mouthed, against Yoko's cheek. The sound sends a tingling rush of arousal through Yoko, suddenly making him feel a bit more urgent. He rolls them over so he's straddling Ohkura, pressing against the bulge in Ohkura's jeans and making him moan again, head tilting back. Yoko leans in, kissing the arch of Ohkura's throat, up to the line of his jaw. Ohkura pushes his hips up and Yoko grinds down against him, gasping against Ohkura's skin.

Ohkura slides his hands up the back of Yoko's shirt, pushing it up until Yoko leans back so he can pull it off. In turn, Yoko tugs at the hem of Ohkura's shirt, hiking it halfway up to expose smooth, tanned skin. Ohkura makes a low, contented sound as Yoko slides his palms up Ohkura's sides, and Yoko grinds his hips down a little, watching Ohkura arch into it. Ohkura looks up at him with hooded eyes, lips parted, and Yoko feels his breath hitch.

Yoko moves back, off of Ohkura, and starts to take off his pants. Ohkura gets the message, sitting up to pull his shirt off and then working on his own pants. Yoko turns back to him just as he's lifting his hips to slide his underwear down, and Yoko watches for a moment before reaching out to palm Ohkura's inner thigh. When he's gotten his clothes off, Ohkura leans back onto the pillows, legs splayed. Yoko takes the lube and a condom from the dresser, setting them down on the bed, and kneels between Ohkura's thighs. He leans over to kiss him, and their cocks press together as Yoko slips his tongue past Ohkura's lips. Yoko can't get enough of Ohkura's mouth; it's partly that Ohkura's a good kisser and partly that he just tastes really good, but either way, Yoko's losing himself in the kiss.

Ohkura shifts under him, curling a leg around Yoko's body to pull him in closer, and Yoko groans at the contact. He pulls away, breathless, and picks up the lube. Ohkura lifts his knees, feet flat on the bed, while Yoko slicks his fingers. Yoko curls his left hand around Ohkura's cock as he pushes the first finger in; Ohkura tips his head back, eyes closed, and exhales a long sigh. Yoko strokes Ohkura's cock steadily as he fingers him, waiting until Ohkura's shifting his hips slightly against the touch before adding a second finger, and pushing in a third when Ohkura moans, low in his throat, and shudders.

Yoko crooks his fingers up, swiping his thumb over the head of Ohkura's cock, and Ohkura gasps, squirming a little.

"Okay," Ohkura mumbles, "okay, come on."

Yoko grins; he doesn't need to be told twice. He rolls on the condom, slicking his cock with lube, and pushes in. Ohkura reaches up, fingers wrapping tight around Yoko's arm. Yoko pauses when he's all the way in, leaning over Ohkura and trying to keep still until Ohkura moves, tilting his hips up so Yoko goes just a bit deeper. Yoko leans closer, muffling Ohkura's moan with his mouth as he starts to move. Ohkura reaches between them to pull at his cock, breathing hard when Yoko breaks the kiss. He pulls back a little so he has more leverage to thrust into Ohkura, and so he can watch Ohkura's face. Ohkura keeps his eyes closed, but his mouth is open, his lips pink and wet and a little swollen from being kissed.

Ohkura's actually less noisy during sex than he is when he eats, but Yoko drinks in all of the noises he does make: every hitched breath, every low, throaty groan tipping Yoko closer and closer to the edge until he's speeding up, gripping Ohkura's thigh tightly as he comes, eyes squeezed shut.

Yoko pulls out, feeling boneless and satiated, but Ohkura hasn't come yet, and he rolls over, grinding his cock against Yoko's hip demandingly.

"You take way too long," Yoko complains, turning over and reaching for Ohkura's cock. He can tell from the way Ohkura reacts to the touch, arching lazily and breathing out a soft sigh, that he's not terribly close to coming, but Yoko feels like it's his turn to be lazy, so he lies back, feeling around on the other side of him for the bottle he'd left there.

"Hey," Ohkura whines, "no fair."

Yoko hands him the lube. Ohkura looks at it for a moment, face a comical mix of turned on and confused, before he seems to put two and two together and pushes Yoko's legs apart, kneeling between them. The first finger inside him is almost too much too soon, and Yoko shudders, breath catching, but he relaxes into it with relative ease. Ohkura fingers him until Yoko's half-hard again. He's almost surprised at how easily it happens, how quickly he feels desperate to have Ohkura fucking him.

"Okay," Yoko breathes, "now, come on."

Ohkura pulls back, and then he's pushing his cock in. Yoko squeezes his eyes shut, the feeling of it making him breathless. Ohkura starts off slow, rolling his hips forward and making Yoko gasp on every thrust.

"You feel good," Ohkura mumbles. He's got his head tipped back, hair sweat-slicked to his forehead, and Yoko just stares, reaching down to wrap a hand around his cock. He hisses at the contact; it's almost painful but it feels too good to stop. Ohkura speeds up, pushing Yoko's legs up and apart to change the angle, and Yoko gasps at the sudden blinding rush of sensation. Ohkura makes more noise as he gets closer, half-formed words and little exhaled moans, and Yoko squeezes at his cock, biting his lip.

Ohkura goes totally still when he comes, his eyes shut tight, and then he thrusts in a few more times until Yoko's spilling over his hand, cursing incoherently.

Ohkura flops down next to him, breathing hard, and Yoko shifts closer so their shoulders are pressed together. It's quiet as they catch their breath, their ragged breathing the only sound in the room. Yoko's just daydreaming about a post-sex snack when Ohkura speaks.

"I'm...kind of hungry now."

And Yoko can't help it: he turns over and kisses him.


End file.
